Sweet, Sweet Revenge
by IceCreamGurl6455
Summary: Chapter One is a companion to SapphireShell91's "Saying Goodnight..." and a sequel to Bunnylass's "Dinner at the Ackerman's" in Suze's POV. Chapters 2 and 3 are Suze's family's reaction to Jesse after formally meeting him and how everything pans out. Intended as an epilogue to the series. Please enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the book series "The Mediator" by Meg Cabot, nor will I ever. I do not own any characters or settings you recognize, and I do not profit from this in any way. "Sweet, Sweet Revenge" is a story written by me (IceCreamGurl6455), purely for my own entertainment and the entertainment of others. No part of this story can be duplicated, quoted, or replicated without my permission and proper citation. Scenarios referenced or created by SapphireShell91 and Bunnylass were obtained by permission. Thank you for understanding the terms on which this story was and continues to be written. I appreciate your time and thank you in advance for complying by my personal standards, rules, and international laws.

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Hello, everyone, before you read this story, I would like to say that:  
1) This is a companion fic to SapphireShell91's story, "When Saying Goodnight, Tongues Usually Remain in One's Mouth."  
2) This is a sequel to Bunnylass's fic, "Dinner at the Ackerman's."  
3) I am not Meg Cabot.

Thank being said, please check out those stories to fully appreciate this one.

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Done? Good. Happy reading!

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I walked out the door, happy as hell that everything had gone all right: I wasn't grounded, I wasn't forbidden to date Jesse, no ghostly interruptions… It was everything I ever wanted. For that one night, I was normal. I was happy that Jesse had agreed to come, because I was finally able to pull him out for the world to see and say, "This is Jesse de Silva, my boyfriend." I was also glad that Doc had someone who he could relate to (intelligence-wise), Sleepy and my mom (not to mention my recently joined the whatever-the-dead-do-in-the-afterlife squad dad) approved of him, Andy hadn't scared him with the cooking, and Dopey…well, that he already knew what Dopey was like.

My not-ghostly-anymore-but-still-hot boyfriend followed me to his car. He, like a true gentleman, waited until I was out of my family's sight to start kissing me. And lets just say that for a guy who had pretty much never kissed anyone when he was alive (due to extremely stupid laws made by uptight and stuffy people), he was pretty good at it. Not that I'm like Kelly Prescott or anything with more than enough experience in these things, but still, Jesse was…well, Jesse.

I was reminded of these facts as we both broke away, gasping for air. It's still amazing to see this and **know **that he's actually alive. And, you know, not having to always be the killjoy who has to stop kissing because she needs air. Yeah, that's definitely a factor.

I see it as a privilege that my family and friends can actually see him now, instead of only me (thanks to my freaky mutation). I was reminded of another time when no one could see him but me… Oh, revenge would be sweet.

After Mr. de Silva felt he had kissed me enough, he pulled away and just stared into my eyes. I stared right back, but the effect was ruined by extreme case of stifled hysterical laughter. He started frowning, and that just made the giggles grow. He should be used to my behavior after almost a year, but what do you know? He was clearly baffled, and it showed. I continued smirking at him.

"Susannah?" he asked, hesitantly. I kind of felt bad about leading him on in this situation, and the giggles disappeared. "Querida? What have I done to get you so amused?" He asked in a frustrated tone. The confusion and befuddlement of this far-more-intelligent-than-me guy was just too funny to watch. The laughter was insanely entertaining to me, for some strange reason, and I slapped my hand (very ungraciously) over my mouth in an attempt to salvage my dignity. It didn't work.

It's just that I remembered something quite funny that you said to me," I choked out. He still didn't understand a thing! "Oh, it was a long time ago now, I think, within the first couple of months of us knowing each other, and you were scolding me for something you just did, just now." His hypocritical move and perplexed expression set off the laughter again.

In typical 17th century fashion, he just looked down at me. His eyes make me melt; I know this, he knows this, heck, any girl with half a brain would do the same thing. Except tonight. I wouldn't fall prey to his shameless attempts to get me to talk, even if it killed me. And actually, spontaneous combustion was looking very likely at the moment. If, you know, the giggles can do that to you.

I looked at him and felt sad. It's all his fault, he just looked at me with those big, black eyes. It's simple: if Jesse's happy, Suze is happy; if Jesse's sad, Suze is sad; if Jesse's mad, Suze is kicking some ghostly butt.

So, instead of losing every shred of self-respect I had, I settled for smiling sweetly up at him. I leaned in close to his ear—almost killing myself in the process, may I add, thanks to ballet flats not being as height-enhancing as, say, heels—(his arms, I noticed, immediately went around my waist) and said in a sugary voice, "Now, I may have only been alive for eighteen years, Jesse, but that doesn't mean I don't know how people say goodnight. And, generally, when people say goodnight, they keep their tongues to themselves." I watch his face as my words sunk in. "Hy-po-crite," I said, saying each syllable slowly. His face was white (almost ghostly, may I add, but without the ethereal glow) with shock, and he seemed frozen in place. I kissed him lightly on the cheek, chuckling, and hopped down from my oh-so-comfortable perch in his arms. I didn't know when he'd recover, but I didn't want to take my chances. When I reached the door, I sighed, and turned back. He wasn't wearing his Susannah-that's-not-funny face, which I took as a good sign. It almost looked as if he had bowed slightly to me. Yeah, I disregarded that, because that would be a totally un-Jesse-like thing for him to do, though the thought was romantic.

"Goodnight, Jesse," I said, smiling. He, I saw, was wearing a small smile of his own.

"Goodnight, Querida," he said in that silky voice I had come to love so much.

I turned to go inside, but before I touched the door, instinct took control. I stuck my tongue out at him, then rushed inside and closed the door. I stood with my back against the door, giggling, for a few moments, before peeking out the window to see Jesse leaving. I snapped my finger, saying, "And, that is how Suze Simon does it."

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I hope you enjoyed this; give me your feedback by reviewing!

~IceCreamGurl6455


	2. Chapter 2

Here's the thing about Jesse: I am totally and completely in love with him. He can make me smile, no matter what. He makes me forget who I am, and where I am.

That's the problem.

Apparently, during our little scene outside, my entire family had been watching from the bay window in the den. I had just been too…distracted…to notice.

And, of course, they hadn't missed a thing.

We all stood in the foyer, facing each other (well, it was more them in a line facing me). Sleepy was the first say anything.

"Suze," he said, looking every bit as pissed off as he had been when he caught Brad stealing his _Playboy_s from under the front seat of the Land Rover, "I said that I approve of Jesse. That does not mean I want or need to see him stick his tongue down your throat!"

"Jake! Language!" barked Andy, looking less appalled at Sleepy's vulgarity than he usually would have been. Then he looked at me. Crap.

I _knew_ it was all too good to be true. I mean, former-ghost-meeting-the-parents-but-more-officially-this-time dinners are difficult at the best of times. The fact that Jesse was three (or 150, depending on how you look at it) years older than me? Forget about a recipe for disaster; this practically writes the cookbook.

Harry Price could write the intro.

So, anyway, I wasn't very surprised when Andy said, "Suze, don't get me wrong. I like Jesse, I really do. But I don't think…I mean, you're seventeen. You haven't even graduated from high school yet. Don't you think Jesse is a little intense for you?"

I was more than a little offended by this statement. "Hey! I can be intense!"

"Yeah, intensely weird," Dopey chortled. I elbowed him in the shoulder and he groaned.

"Suze, " my mom chastised. Then, she said, "Susie, I agree with Andy. We do like Jesse, be he's a lot older than you. And more mature. And going to college next fall. I just don't think you're ready for that kind of relationship yet. I know many teenagers these days are getting intimate—"

"Mom!" I whisper-yelled, mortified. She had given Gina and me the sex talk back when we hit puberty. That summer, every time we walked by a truck driver, he would honk at us and we would stop, thinking he was trying to warn us about some impending danger. One day, we were crossing Bleecker and this blind guy tried to feel us up, so I decked him right in the kisser. After spitting out a tooth (and a lot of blood), he threatened to sue. We threatened to call the sixth precinct. Gina eventually called my mom. On the way home, she talked to us about "Our Bodies" and how "Special Changes" were happening to us. She said we "Blossoming" into "Responsible Young Women". She also described the "Special Love" between two people who "Understood, Respected, and Loved" one another.

The most awkward part of this conversation, however, was my father, who had materialized when my mom arrived and was walking with us.

Much to my chagrin, that was not the end of the talk by a long shot. Because my mom was a reporter, she always knew the latest teen pregnancy rates and such, she considered herself an expert on the subject.

Hence, the abstinence policy.

"Mom, you've already gone over this. Years ago. Me and Jesse…we aren't…"

This was, by far, more awkward than the last talk.

"Honey," my mom tried again. "As people get older, they think they can do whatever they want and not suffer any consequences."

"Mom. Me. And. Jesse. Are. Not. Doing. That," I growled. Seriously? I bring home the _perfect_ guy, and my family still finds something wrong with him.

"Suze, college boys often pressure girls into doing things that they would otherwise not do," Andy said calmly, ignoring Sleepy's outraged face.

I started laughing sarcastically. "Yes, of_ course_ Jesse is going to pressure me. Seeing as how he has proved to be _so_ untrustworthy thus far."

I couldn't help but sound defensive. After all, this was _Jesse_. Jesse, who had saved my life more times than I can count. Jesse, who broke Paul's nose to help me. Jesse, who apologized after kissing me because he thought I deserved to live a normal life.

Well, okay, that last decision sort of sucked. But you get what I mean.

Jesse = the only person I could ever love.

And it was totally unfair that my family was completely discrediting everything he had done for me.

Even if they didn't know about it.

"Jesse's very old fashioned. He believes in waiting until marriage, and we've agreed to wait for each other until then," I said slowly, trying to show no emotion.

Jesse and I had talked about this particular topic just a few weeks ago, when I was helping him move. He assured me that his views had not changed, even with his new apartment being a couple of blocks from my house. I was welcome to spend the night, but any improper behavior on my part would end that.

In a way, nights in Jesse's apartment were like old times. Sure, there were no back copies of _Cosmo_ or Stella McCartney tops hanging around, and all the sheets were patterned blue and brown plaid, and instead of a nightstand, he had a stack of encyclopedias and medical journals next to his bed, but I didn't care.

It was close enough.

Okay, maybe Mom and Andy _were_ justified in thinking Jesse and I were regularly scoring.

"Mom," I said, gritting my teeth. "I really don't want to discuss this with you. And especially not with Andy, Jake, Dop—Brad, and David. Can't you all just be happy that I found this great guy who respects and loves me?" I whirled around and marched up to my room. When I got there, I stalked over to the phone, my eyes watering with tears that I knew would fall eventually, and I dialed the familiar number.

As the phone connected, I tried to take a couple deep breaths and willed myself not to cry.

"Hello?"

"Jesse, it's me. Can—can you come over?" My voice cracked.

"I'm on my way, Querida," he said, sounding concerned, "Are you all right?"

"I..I just need you right now," I whispered so he couldn't hear my shaking voice. We both hung up, and I sat by my window, waiting for him. I felt better now. I had stopped crying, at least. I knew it would all turn out all right.

Jesse always makes everything better.

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So...I'm continuing this fic! But only for a short while. It's a threeshot, and the third (and final) chapter will be posted on Saturday. I know this chapter isn't as funny as the first, but Chapter Three ends everything nicely.

That being said, give me feedback! An amazing review from Bunnylass inspired me to write more here, so who knows?

Please enjoy the cover. It took me 11 hours on "Paint", which is a really poor excuse for Photoshop. [Another (in my not so humble opinion) great cover: my Princess Diaries story. Check it out!]

Oh, and one more thing: There's going to be a Book 7 for the Mediator! Meg's words:

*I don't have any new Mediator movie news, but I love that so many of you support this series. I know I've said I might do an epilogue to Suze and Jesse's story someday, but I just couldn't think of a book-length story for them.

Well, thanks to all of you endlessly asking about it and keeping it ever present in my mind, a shark finally bit me with** a book length idea for a story for them** (and the whole rest of the gang, including Paul Slater).

Now I just need to find the time to write it (please note: I still have to finish some other books first before I can work on it, so it will be a while before you'll hear any details).

***6) **I do have other projects in the works, but none that I can discuss at this time. I can, however, mention that **I'm working on a 7th Mediator book. It will include all the major characters from the series but will take place several years after the 6th book ended. I think it might be nice to get to the sex already, and we all know Jesse won't even consider that until he's married!**

*"But if we were to take a vacation together **(to, say, visit Carmel-by-the-Sea to do research for the next Mediator book)**,"

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Gah, I can't wait!


	3. Chapter 3

It took less than the usual five minutes for Jesse to pull into the driveway. He jumped out so quickly, I barely had time to hiss, "Jesse! Roof!" before he started to knock on the door. I leapt down gracefully, landing on the usual layer of pine needles.

He strode over to me, a worried look on his face. "Susannah? What's wrong?" I nearly tackled him as I gave him a bear hug. Unfortunately, the sight of Jesse had made those tears that I had tried so hard to contain overflow.

Oh, well. At least I was wearing waterproof mascara.

"Susannah, what is wrong?" he repeated, sounding even more worried than before. Well, could you really blame him? I mean, I'm Suze Simon, Mediator and All-Around Supernatural Butt-Kicker. Jesse had only seen me cry once, maybe twice, and I was trying to keep it that way. Not because he wasn't good at the comforting stuff (because let me assure you, he was absolutely great at it), but because I have a reputation to keep. I ask you, would I ever get respect from those, ahem, difficult cases, if I was spontaneously bursting into tears?

No, hypothetical person who was asked that rhetorical question, I would not.

But Jesse was completely fine with it. More than fine. Actually, it was sort of unnerving how comforting and okay with my breakdown he was. Do they teach these kinds of things in medical school? Or, since Jesse has not actually taken any college classes yet, in any of those huge tomes with scientific names that Jesse is always reading?

Or was it just a Jesse thing?

Yeah, it's probably the last one.

"Susannah," Jesse kept murmuring, stroking my hair. I had been too busy ranting in my head to realize that he had picked me up and was now carrying me to his car. Somehow, he managed to open the car door while holding me, and he set me down gently on the seat. Seeing that I was still blubbering (which was totally embarassing), he buckled me in before closing the door and getting in the driver's seat.

As he was backing up, I reminded him (while still sniffling) not to hit the mailbox. He relaxed a little after that.

We ended up at the Coffee Clutch, where Jesse ordered a black coffee (him) and a medium lowfat caramel double mocha hot chocolate with extra whipped cream (me) from the drive thru. I quietly sipped mine, hiccupping slightly, as Jesse made his way through the tourist traffic back to his apartment.

He parked and looked at me. I was calmer now than I had been, which was a side effect of being near Jesse de Silva. And being calmer let me think through everything I had done, everything I had said, and how I had reacted tonight. To be honest, I felt like an idiot. I had completely flipped out over nothing, and now I was sitting in Jesse's car, drinking hot chocolate and resting against his completely toned chest while he wrapped his arm around me, waiting for me to start talking.

Why did I care so much about my family's reaction to Jesse? I loved him. That was enough, right? We had been through so much together, so why did this bother me so much?

What I wanted the answer to be: I was PMSing and I just needed a chill pill.

What the answer really was: I wanted everyone to like Jesse because he deserved everyone's approval. He deserved to be a part of a family again.

CeeCee already loved him, Paul acknowledged that he was a good person, Adam...would come around, Father Dom counted on him to keep me in line, but if my family didn't like him...

They **would **like him. They **would **approve.

"Querida, what's wrong?" Jesse asked softly, bringing my internal debate to an screeching halt. I turned my head slightly and kissed him.

I'd like to say that we each gave in to our passionate desires right there and then. And that Jesse proposed and that in a couple years, we had little, bouncing, non-mediator, half-Spanish children running around the apartment and got a dog and life was perfect forever and ever.

But this isn't some chick-lit supernatural teen romance novel.

After a few minutes, Jesse pulled away and said, "Susannah, I do not think you called me to come over to your house ten minutes after I left just to kiss me."

Darn him and his logicalness!

"I just...I just needed you, Jesse. Everyone was judging us, it was horrible, they were telling me you were too old for me."

Jesse sighed and looked at me intensely. "Querida, does it bother you that I am older than you?"

"No," I replied automatically.

"Then it doesn't matter," he said simply, smiling at me.

"But I want my family to like you! You're so perfect! And they don't know you at all, but they're making assumptions about us and I hate it. I just want them to give you a chance."

"Don't worry, I'll love you no matter what, Susannah," He looked a little sad, though.

"Jesse, what's wrong?" I whispered.

He looked away for a moment. "Maybe they're right," he said, barely loud enough for me to hear. I reached up and touched his face, turning it toward me. His eyes were bright, just like I knew mine were.

"Jesse, you listen to me. I don't _care_ what they think. I don't care what they say! I love you, and you know that!" I said sharply.

See, Dopey was wrong. I am intense sometimes.

Jesse wouldn't look me in the eye. He just stared down at our intertwined hands.

I might have violent tendencies, but he had some serious self-deprecation issues.

What was wrong with him? Did he not understand everything he had done for me, and how grateful I was? Did he not know that I couldn't live without him? I mean, not to sound like some emo girl in love with a sparkly vampire, but I would not be able to function without him. I mean, yeah, I loved him with my entire heart, but also, I would be killed by some angry ghost if Jesse wasn't there to talk me out of confronting him or her.

I needed Jesse.

"Jesse, are you trying to break up with me?" I gasped. Was that what he was getting at?

He looked straight ahead, saying, "I just want what's best for you, Susannah."

At that, I started feeling tears welling up in my eyes again.

I searched my mind for something, anything, that would prove to Jesse how much I needed him. Because I couldn't lose him.

"Do you remember when I went back in time? To stop Paul? And I brought you back?" I asked. Jesse nodded, looking a little confused. "Well, I never told you what really happened when I was in 1850. I went back in time to stop Paul, but I got thrown out of the house by Mrs. O'Neil and it rained and Paul ended up tying me up and leaving me in the barn loft- ow, Jesse, can you please let go?"

At the first mention of Paul's name, Jesse had looked pissed off. But when I got to the part about what Paul did to me, Jesse started clenching his fists. One of which still had my hand in it. He let go and apologized quickly.

"So, I was there, and then I heard...you," I continued. "At first, I thought you had found some way to go back, to find me. But then I realized that it was the past you."

Jesse stared at me with wide eyes. "_Nombre de dios_," he breathed. "How...what...it was me? What did I do? Did I know you?" he asked, looking anxious but a little fearful.

"I made some noise...you found me. You didn't recognize me at all. But you still cared about me. And you hated my clothes," I chuckled. "You wanted to throw Paul in jail and take me to see a doctor. And then you thought I was a thief because I had Maria's miniature of you."

Jesse looked horrified. It was actually pretty funny. Or, it would have been under other circumstances. "Querida..." he trailed off. Querida. That was a good sign, right?

"But I eventually convinced you that I was the real deal. And I told you what Diego was going to do to you, and that you had to leave. Because I couldn't stand by and watch you get killed. I love you too much. But do you know what you did? You wouldn't leave. You stayed there to protect me from Diego, and from Paul. And you told me _I _was brave. When _you _were the one who was risking your live to save me." About halfway through this, I stopped trying to hold the tears in. "And you fought Diego. You won. But he knocked me down, and the barn caught on fire. I was trapped in the middle of it all. Paul was yelling for me to shift, and you both were safe. But you saved me again. You ran through the fire to save me, a girl you barely even knew. But then I shifted and when I woke up, your body was there and you weren't moving and I thought I was going to lose you, after all you had done for me. I can't lose you, Jesse," I choked. I closed my eyes and tried to take a few deep breaths.

When I opened my eyes, Jesse was looking at me with a weird expression on his face. Like he was trying to understand something complicated or waking up from a shifting-induced sleep.

"Querida," he breathed. Again, nickname. Sweetheart. Dearest one. Not exactly a breakup term.

"Jesse, I love you so much. When are you going to get that you're stuck with me?" I asked.

He chuckled a little. "I have no idea, Susannah. I'm not a lucky person, so I don't know how this is happening to me." He leaned down and kissed me. "I'm sorry, Querida," he murmured.

"I forgive you," I whispered as he held me.

Eventually, we did make it inside. Unfortunately, the night didn't end with the start of little Suzes and Jesses. After calling my mom to tell her that I would be staying at Jesse's, we just laid down on Jesse's bed, curled up together, talking, laughing, and kissing. Eventually, we fell asleep there, not worrying about my mom and Andy, or the fact that the next day I had school and Jesse had work. That night, we were the only ones who mattered.

And it was perfect.


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